


Commander Reyes and I

by clickclickBANG



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Bittersweet, Blackwatch Commander Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Devotion, Fluff and Angst, I love Stealthy Jack, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Merry Christmas Kasita, Strike-Commander Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Worldbuilding, or something melodramatic like that, the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, this idea got like way bigger than I could actually write in the time I had available RIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:52:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clickclickBANG/pseuds/clickclickBANG
Summary: Since the end of the Omnic Crisis, Overwatch has protected peace and maintained stability for nearly two decades, but the sudden arrest of Mexican President Guillermo Portero and some of his Cabinet members by Overwatch's Judicial Division leaves the world in shock.  Some are thrilled to see the "corruptrevitalizaciónpresident" leave office in disgrace, and others are terrified that Overwatch has started to overstep its bounds as a "peacekeeping agency."Some go so far as to suggest that Overwatch is now enacting the "personal vendettas and ideologies" of its Strike-Commander, Gabriel Reyes.But is it Commander Reyes they should be worried about?Or the man who hides in his shadow -Like twilight bookending a sunset?





	Commander Reyes and I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foldingcranes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldingcranes/gifts).



> ¡Feliz Navidad, Kasita!
> 
> ;_; I LOVED the prompt you listed and I only wish I had more time to do it the true justice it deserved. "Blackwatch" Jack is one of my favorite canon-divergent AUs to explore and I had like, 100 more ideas I wanted to incorporate, but this got long even without those. If I ever find time, I may come back and try to write more in this universe, but for the moment, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS, KASI!! I tried to get all the fluffy angst and semi-scifi, semi-political worldbuilding you like!
> 
> There's one semi-NSFW scene (in the sense of like...they're naked in bed together??) but it's almost nothing like my other "smut" fics so I tagged this as mature, but let me know if people think it needs to be rated up or down.

**Mexican President Portero Arrested on Corruption Charges**

8 June 2067 - Olympia Shaw, reporting from Mexico City, Mexico

 

Mexican President Guillermo Portero has been arrested by Overwatch agents at his summer home in Dorado, Veracruz this morning.  Along with Portero, several members of the President’s cabinet were also arrested, including Gabriela Moyano, Secretariat of Energy, and Arturo Castaño, Chief of Staff.

While the specific details of the charges leveled against Portero have not been fully disclosed, a statement from the Judicial Affairs branch of Overwatch listed corruption, embezzlement, malfeasance, obstruction of a judicial investigation, and perjury as some of the crimes Portero committed while in office as the President of Mexico.

“President Portero has been arrested by Overwatch agents as of 7:23 a.m. Central time,” Overwatch Strike-Commander Gabriel Reyes stated at an official press conference shortly after the arrest, “Overwatch agents will escort him to Mexico City, where Mexican authorities, United Nations police, and members of the Overwatch Judicial Affairs branch will take him into custody.”

The sudden arrest and allegations leveled against the famed Omnic Crisis war hero and “revitalización” president stunned many in Mexico City and abroad.

“This is beyond shocking, and quite honestly, horrifying to hear,” Senator María Ramirez Santos - President of the Senate and a longtime political supporter of Portero - said shortly after the Overwatch press conference concluded, “If the allegations are true, this is a huge violation of the trust and faith imbued in the President by the Mexican people.”

Many citizens took to the streets in impromptu protests chanting “Queremos la verdad!” or “We want the truth!” with an especially large coalition forming outside of Los Pinos, the residency of the President in Mexico City.  Many citizens expressed a combination of anger, fear, and even sorrow over the allegations.

“We believed in him!” said one anonymous citizen outside of Los Pinos this morning, “This is an incredible loss for Mexico - my own father, my uncle fought beside him in La Medianoche.”

\---

_A War Hero_

 

Guillermo Portero’s story is both a common and unique one in the Post-Crisis era.  Like many of today’s leading national and international politicians and public figures, Portero first gained his heroic and inspiring reputation during the war.

Within the first year of the Omnic Crisis, governments the world over were overwhelmed by the sudden assault out of the “defunct” Omniums, and Mexico was no different.  What _was_ unique to Mexico and its Central American neighbors such as Guatemala, Belize, and Honduras was the rapid and near-total destruction of national and state-level infrastructure almost instantaneously.

“Mexico is considered by many to be a ‘large state,’” explained historian and political analyst Sonia García Sánchez, “But while many of the other large states - the U.S., Russia, China, India, Brazil, Argentina, Australia, Egypt, Saudi Arabia - were able to consolidate their national governments in secure locations and continue to engage in national-scale strategies, Mexico was not able to do so due to the proximity of the State of Mexico Omnium, only twenty, thirty kilometers away in the city of Texcoco.”

Many experts - historians, analysts, economists, and humanitarian workers - agree that Mexico City suffered the worst attack on a civilian population in the entire course of the Omnic Crisis, with final totals still not fully known to this day.  The lightning fast attack on the city caught the national government and military off-guard, with many crucial, national-level departments and organizations being destroyed within hours.

“And that,” García Sánchez said, “Is when the longest night began.”

Called “La Medianoche” in Mexico and Central America, the Crisis in the region took on a very different and devastating darkness - Mexico, Guatemala, and Belize lost an estimated 65-70% of their electrical power within the first month of the war.  Some experts say that, at the end of the first year, close to 90% of Central America was without power or fuel resources, with many citizens fleeing from major cities and urban areas to escape into more rural, secluded regions for the duration of the war.

“However, it was General Portero, then the Commander of the Fifth Military Zone encompassing the Gulf States, who realized the solution,” García Sánchez explained, “The last large-scale power-outputting plant in Mexico was the Laguna Verde Nuclear Power Plant, just north of Veracruz in the port village of Dorado.”

The coastal state of Veracruz was the only large-scale region to sustain power, thanks almost entirely to Mexico’s only nuclear power plant.  Named Laguna Verde after the local lagoon, the power plant took national focus in the 2020’s, when Mexico underwent a major oil and gasoline crisis.  The administration at the time increased Laguna Verde’s energy output, making it one of the foremost energy-generating nuclear plants in the world back then, and causing a population boom in the then-tiny fishing village of Dorado.  Just prior to the Crisis, however, Laguna Verde had fallen behind in national and global significance, as solar, wind, and then-emerging fusion technologies surpassed it the world over.  Dorado itself, however, remained a popular tourist and vacation spot, so while growth at the plant remained static, the town quietly but steadily thrived.

“It was about midway through the first year of the war that Portero shifted his strategy,” García Sánchez continued, “He had congregated most of his Gulf State battalions in Veracruz, but quickly put about two-thirds of his troops to guard Dorado and the power plant.  There, they began an intense and desperate recruitment, training, and deployment of citizen-soldiers - _Los Rurales_.”

Mexico has a long and storied history of citizens working together to create an armed force, sometimes in revolution against the government, and sometimes in cooperation with it.  In this instance, the modern “rurales” - members of the civilian militia force known as the “Cuerpo de Defensa Rural” (the Rural Defense Corps) - were formally recognized and organized by the national government in 1926.  For most of the late 20th and early 21st centuries, _Los Rurales_ worked in partnerships with police and military units to defend villages and towns from drug traffickers and arms dealers, receiving semi-formal training and a loose but flexible structure to engage in actions where standardized operations would not work.

In the Crisis, Portero called upon these individuals to join his battalions and defend Dorado.  With sheer determine and steady willpower, the united forces of the Gulf State battalions and the rurales citizen-soldiers were able to push back the Omnic assaults, and reclaim Central Mexico by the end of the war.

“He was the power of the movement,” García Sánchez said, “He embodied everything Mexico needed in La Medianoche, everything that it had lacked in that first year of the war - strong leadership, a visionary goal, an understanding of vital resources, and above all, the need for solidarity and unity in our longest night.  He truly was our light in the darkness.”

And the Mexican people agreed: after the war ended, they put Portero into Los Pinos at an incredible 90% of the vote.

A reign that had seemingly gone unchallenged until today.

\---

_Broken Promises?_

 

In the years after the war, Mexico has been a shining and bold example of recovery and reconstruction for the entire world.  Under Portero and the PNR’s strong “revitalization” policies, emphasis was placed on rebuilding infrastructures both real and organizational, with a focus on ensuring access to food, water, and - unsurprisingly - energy.  With aid from the United Nations and Overwatch, Portero’s administration was able to reestablish control of the country within two years, said Luis Martínez, an economic analyst working for Atlas News’ Central America branch in Mexico City.

“I think it genuinely surprised a lot of people,” Martínez explained, “Many of the other ‘big states’ - like the United States, Russia, and Brazil, for example - really struggled with recovering in some of their major regions.  For many of us living here in Central Mexico, stories about the American Southwest being under the rule of armed gangs like Deadlock still terrify us to this day.  But Mexico wasn’t like that - Portero’s government really worked hard in those early years to ensure a base level of economic and social stability.”

Indeed, some humanitarian workers and human rights activists have raised questions about the early Post-Crisis administration’s “methods” for dealing with the anarchy gangs, arms dealers, and even unincorporated communities that developed during and after the war.  Most nations the world over struggled with groups as varied as the Deadlock arms dealers in the United States, the junkers in Australia, the yakuza empires in Japan, and the mercenary armies in Nigeria, but Mexico’s revitalization appeared nearly seamless in comparison.

“These rogue, unincorporated, or stateless groups almost certain existed in Mexico, Guatemala, and Belize,” said García Sánchez.  Martínez agreed: “Almost every person who lived through the Crisis outside of the Gulf States knows of them - some of them were quite aggressive, like members of the Rural Defense Corps who ignored orders to work with Portero’s battalions, but the vast majority were common citizens, organizing themselves into new communities as the central government fell apart.”

Reports from within Overwatch’s humanitarian divisions have described how communities that cooperated with Portero’s administration were given aid, food, and supplies, but others that protested or requested “unnatural levels of assistance” were very quietly and succinctly dispersed within five years of the end of the war.  The Overwatch reports describe “unnatural levels of assistance” as requesting “extensive medical support, such as on-site doctors and nurses; significant food and care for livestock and other non-human dependents; access to specialized food and medicines” and - perhaps most significantly - “information on missing relatives, friends, and individuals” separated from them during the Crisis.

“It should cause concerns,” said Cristina Flores, an advocate for the human rights group “Corazones No Energéticos” (“Hearts Not Energy”), which has monitored communities and groups in the rural regions and on the fringes of Mexico and Guatemala.  “It is true that some groups were quite violent and struggled against the Post-Crisis government, but the majority were just people who wanted or needed a different sort of help than a new paved road or a new building.”

These aren’t the only questions that have been raised about Portero’s government and his administration’s policies.  While Portero continues to enjoy high support in polls, and has been voted into Los Pinos two more times since the end of the Crisis, his numbers have steadily decreased over the years, with statistics showing increased disapproval and discontent in the outer regions of Mexico.

But the biggest surprise has been in the state of Veracruz - Portero’s original “base” of support.

“Many of the Gulf Coast _Los Rurales_ who fought with Portero have been saying they have not been given the support and recognition they and their communities deserve,” said Martínez, “A lot of them are requesting increased aid and support for veterans, especially in medical terms.  And many of their communities - Veracruz, Dorado, Xalapa, Córdoba - are saying that they have not received the same treatment as Central Mexican cities.”

“There is a significant displacement of wealth, power, and resources,” said García Sánchez, “Many other analysts and economists have agreed - a lot of funds and budget sources have started disappearing to strange places.”

Or strange pockets, if the allegations are true.  The issue that many in Mexico, abroad, and apparently in Overwatch have been keeping an eye on is none other than Portero’s most popular and strongest topic: Energy.

“Last year, the Environmental and Sciences divisions of Overwatch conducted study on the Laguna Verde Nuclear Power Plant’s output,” explained Flores, “And they found that levels were dangerously close to exceeding safe and standardized regulations.  Plant workers in Dorado have been complaining for years that conditions were getting unsafe and hazardous - not just for them and the machines, but for the entire surrounding region.  So Overwatch forced a shutdown of the plant and placed an ultimatum on the Federal Government to start looking into modernizing and replacing the plant.”

Discussions within Congress on what to do and how to proceed floundered in the beginning, with fusion-energy companies the world over rushing to Mexico City to take part in bidding wars and cash-softened “persuasions.”  

But there was one contender that stood out: LumériCo, a relatively small but “homegrown” energy company that had two bases - a developmental center in Texcoco, and an operational center in Dorado.  At the time of the ultimatum, LumériCo managed only a few power plants and energy grids, mainly around Texcoco, but numbers show that the company had made rapid and nearly exponential expansions into the regions of Puebla and Veracruz.

A growth that seemingly did not match budgeted numbers.

“No one anticipated LumériCo’s rise,” said Martínez, “In fact, it’s almost impossible to accurately trace LumériCo’s origins - it started working on municipality-level projects that, in theory, it had no experience or right to win.  Its technology appears almost entirely brand new and state-of-the-art, and no one can exactly place who created it or how.  If I may use an English idiom, it appeared like a thief in the night.”

But the energy and fusion numbers do not lie - LumériCo’s power grids transfer and maintain high levels of energy across expansive terrains, at rates that almost baffle physicists.  It is energy, a LumériCo press representative stated, that could help revitalize the whole world.

“The first few years after the Crisis, technology improved by tremendous leaps,” said LumériCo representative José Leones, “Much of this was due to the integration of Omnics and Omnic technology into humanity, but even without them, human technologies expanded at rate preceded only by the Renaissance, the Industrial Revolution, and the assembly line.  But in recent years, technology has stagnated, mainly because we have hit an energy plateau.  But LumériCo has the means and the technology to move past that.”

LumériCo claims that its fusion and fission cells are so efficient and powerful, a “high-energy-consuming” city like Numbani could run on just one single power grid with optimized “output controls,” with a secondary grid for back up.  “We all know how Numbani is currently struggling against rogue mercenary groups like the Scourge’s army,” stated Leones, “And when part of the city struggles, the whole region feels the effects.  But with the kind of energy grids LumériCo designs, loss of power in one part of the city could easily and quickly be restored in a matter of minutes.”

While the details are still obscured in shadows and darkness, watchdog groups like “Corazones No Energéticos” have documented individuals like Gabriela Moyano, Secretariat of Energy, and  Arturo Castaño, Portero’s Chief of Staff, entering the LumériCo operational headquarters in Dorado.  The exact time period of this “comfortable relationship,” as Flores put it, is unknown, but it is likely to extend to before to the Overwatch ultimatum.

“Portero himself has not been seen entering the building, but people have tried tracing Leones’ background as Engineer-in-Chief at LumériCo,” explained Flores, “They found that just before he joined LumériCo, he worked in the Department of Energy for several years, including helping develop municipal-level ‘revitalization’ plans.  Corazones No Energéticos believes that the ultimatum by Overwatch was merely coincidental timing - the leadership of LumériCo has been planning this take-over of government-sponsored energy plans for at least a few years now.”

It isn’t just groups like Corazones No Energéticos that have their suspicions.  Local _Rurales_ veterans and families have been skeptical of the company and its claims since LumériCo set up its headquarters in Dorado.  More vocally, the local gang “Los Muertos” has taken on a notably political tone in their more recent messages.  Originally a sort of discontented anarchy gang, Los Muertos has become increasingly more active in Veracruz and Dorado, leaving anti-Portero and anti-LumériCo messages spraypainted over billboards and walls.

“The reason behind Los Muertos’ shift in vandalism is not known,” said local police chief Rivera, “But there have been more and more reports on cyber-terrorism and hacking cases all over the state of Veracruz - even some cases extending into Puebla.  Los Muertos has bragged that they have the assistance of a ‘world class hacker’ working with them, but the police have not been able to verify this.”

\---

_Set Up To Take The Fall?_

 

It is rumors of cyber-terrorism, hacking, and electronic data and information being leaked that has staunch supporters of Portero crying foul.

Many citizens, and many members of Portero’s political party, “Partido Nacional de Revitalización” (National Revitalization Party, often abbreviated PNR), claim that the allegations are false, and a breach of Overwatch’s bounds.  Some even argued this was political sabotage by various member states of the United Nations to impose global and international restrictions on Mexico’s politics and economy, with many accusations pointing to interference by China, who is currently a technological and economic rival with Mexico’s expanding energy industry.

“The timing of it is incredibly suspicious.  It is clear that vested and biased influences within the United Nations and Overwatch have been corrupted against the revitalization of Mexico and Central America,” Deputy Miguel Hernandez López, leader of the PNR in the Chamber of Deputies, released in a personal press statement.  While the full statement was not specifically party-endorsed, several other prominent members of the PNR spread their vocal support of it as well.

It is no secret that China has opposed Mexico’s entry into the United Nations Security Council, with rampant accusations of corporate interests on part of politicians and ambassadors being expressed on both sides of the debate.  While Chinese telecommunications and long-distance transportation companies, such as Lucheng, have pushed the boundaries of real and virtual technologies as far as the Moon and as rapid as near the speed of light, Chinese energy companies - once the leaders in alternate power sourcing - have found their expansions into the Americas blocked by Mexico’s rapid development of faster, more efficient, more powerful energies, such as city-scale fusion plants.  “Unconquerable, indestructible energy supplies” was one of the major platforms Portero and PNR ran on after the end of the Omnic Crisis, with massive amounts of government funding being directed into the sciences and technologies in Mexico, in both the public and private sectors.

“LumériCo and Mexico’s energy industry has competitors scared,” claimed Leones, “They know what we are capable of and what our numbers show.  No matter who replaces the Laguna Verde Nuclear Power Plant, it will truly be a show of Mexico’s revitalization and power.  We will be a light to guide the world.”

Adding another complication to the situation is the status of Overwatch and, more specifically, its Strike-Commander Gabriel Reyes in Mexico.  Both the organization and its commander are beloved in the country, as well as in its neighbors to the north and the south.

“If there is any current political figure on the global stage that can vie for popularity with Portero in Mexico, it is Commander Reyes,” said García Sánchez, “Indeed, the people of Mexico and many Mexican and Latin American descendants in the United States are incredibly proud and grateful to him for everything he and Overwatch has worked to accomplish - the Crisis, yes, but also things like disbanding the Deadlock gang in the American Southwest, or increasing support in places like Guatemala and Honduras, places that were often forgotten by the bigger nations of the world.”

Few groups can compare to the social and political currency that Overwatch has in Central America, and arguments about the validity and “real, honest truth” of Overwatch’s allegations against Portero are already beginning.

“While many analysts and economists are still debating the level of judicial power a peacekeeping organization like Overwatch should have in national affairs,” said Martínez, “Most of us - and indeed, the majority of citizens - have already ‘decided’ that the allegations _must_ be true if they come from a source like Overwatch.”

But both politicians inside and outside the United Nations have profound anxieties on _how_ Overwatch has found the evidence to support these charges against Portero.

“It does scare me,” Ramirez Santos admitted, “This was not a charge undertaken at the behest of Congress or the Mexican people.  This was an international peacekeeping organization taking a clear stand on national politics.”

The United Nations has taken stances on national topics and issues in the past, but prior to Overwatch, it kept the majority of its “stances” limited to vocal warnings.  It was only on rare occasions in the Pre-Crisis era that the United Nations would actually intervene.

“Prior to Overwatch, the United Nations had very limited means of enforcing peace,” explained García Sánchez, “It had to call on member nations to ‘supply it’ with soldiers and staff and support.  Overwatch is its first true permanent, supranational peacekeeping branch, one which is supplied, maintained, and staffed outside of national and international boundaries.”

A fact that many are starting to question and doubt the necessity of.

“It was one thing when Overwatch was removing gangs like Deadlock or assisting cities like Rio de Janeiro, Cairo, Detroit, Krasnoyarsk,” said Hernandez López’s statement, “But it is an entirely different creature when Overwatch has become effectively a standing army or world police force to enact the whims of the Security Council or possibly Reyes’ own personal agenda.”

But not everyone sees this as a situation of Overwatch “meddling” in national politics.

“This was incredibly welcome news,” said Flores, “We are thrilled and excited that Overwatch has decided to side with the people of Dorado and Veracruz.  All people living in Mexico know the value of stable energy, but it should never come at the expense of people’s health or livelihoods, nor should it threaten the environment.  Both Portero’s administration and LumériCo have done these things.  Today, Overwatch showed that it would handle these matters and listen to people’s voices seriously.”

Unlike the protests in Mexico City, there is rejoicing in the streets of Dorado and Veracruz, as citizens openly celebrated the arrest and removal of Portero, Moyano, and Castaño from Portero’s Dorado seaside home.  Chants of “Viva Dorado!” and “Gracias a Reyes!” could be heard throughout the plazas and between the brightly-colored buildings.

“People only ever celebrate like this on the big holidays,” said local resident Olivia Colomar, “You can tell that the whole atmosphere has changed with the arrest of the Viper King.  That’s what people have been calling Portero around here recently - said that he was poisoning the sea with his greed and ambitions.  With him gone, maybe now Mexico can know justice...and true peace.”

\---------

 

“...Real funny,” says Jack dryly as he sets the datapad with the news article back down, leveling his gaze at Olivia across from him, “Slipping a personal quote in there right at the end.”

The Blackwatch agent - codename “Sombra” - flicks a mischievous grin at him as she laughs brightly, “You’re the one who always says it’s best to ‘hide in plain sight’ and she wanted a good sound bite to end on.”  Olivia lifts her beer and tilts it towards him in a mock salute before she presses the bottle to her lips and drinks.

“I mean,” Jack smirks back, lifting his own glass of tequila in a toast to his agent, “I _did_ say it was funny.”  Olivia pauses drinking to lift her bottle to his, tapping it lightly against his drink, the glass clinking faintly as she giggles, “ _Salud, Comandante_!”

They both drink to that.

They’re sitting outside the Calaveras bar in the Castillo Plaza in Dorado’s high hills, engulfed in the sounds of people continuing to cheer and chant and sing around them.  Even though the sun has begun to set in the hills behind them, painting the sky in bright, oil-dripped vibrancy, the festive and joyous mood over Portero being arrested continues on with people _covering_ the Castillo Plaza in bright paint, bold lights, and colorful music.  The Calaveras bar freely serves beer to pretty much anyone who arrives shouting “Viva Dorado!” (but they still have to pay if they want anything else), and members of Olivia’s “underground contacts” in the Los Muertos gang openly celebrate in the streets alongside other citizens.

The atmosphere is

Quite frankly

 _The sweetest adrenaline_ to Jack.

He savors the slow burn of the tequila, watching a group of children run past their table with flags and streamers, enjoying the sound of rowdy, drunken singing drifting out from inside the bar, admiring how the sunset painted across the eastern sky runs all its beautiful hues together into the swell of the sea - orange casted bronze melting into lustrous pink humming into the faints blush of lavender on the far edges of the horizon -

The slow but steady rise of the twilight, when light and dark, day and night blend into a moment transcendental, spellbinding, surreal.

This.

_This_

Is what makes his hard work _worth_ it - the victory of the shadows, brightest in the twilight, emboldened in the dawn and the dusk, hidden from both the day and the night of history, quietly and steadily assisting the people to cast out stagnation and set fire to corruption, allowing them to reclaim their truths, their rights -

Their justices.

This.

_This_

Is what makes commanding Blackwatch _worth_ it.

…

And also because it’s so _goddamn **fun**_.

Jack casts one last languid, easy gaze over the eastern patio, smirking to himself as he thinks, _Feels like it almost took me a lifetime, but I finally figure out what you were up to, Portero, you undercooked sausage._  He drinks down the rest of the tequila with ease, relishing at the flicker of dry heat inside him, sighing in his low, seastorm voice:

“ _Buen trabajo, Olivia._ ”

“ _Gracias, señor_ ,” Olivia replies with quiet but fierce cheer.  Getting her approved for Blackwatch actually hadn’t been _too_ difficult - he could convince Gabriel of the necessity of particular recruits fairly easily (but he... _had_ avoided bringing Ana, captain of the Overwatch Strike Teams, into the fold).  No, the hard part of getting Olivia into Blackwatch had been convincing _her_ to join the organization and work with them to take down Portero just over a year ago.  The hacker had been dubious of Jack’s claims that they would help fund, support, and assist her and her contacts in Los Muertos in exchange for employing Olivia and getting a solid foothold in Dorado quickly and naturally.

…

 _She was absolutely right not to trust me_ , Jack chuckles to himself, setting the glass down, smiling faintly as he watches her observe the people around them.  It’s not that Jack would ever, _ever_ hurt, betray, abandon, or “screw over” one of his agents (the thought alone sends a surge of fury in his veins like liquid lightning).

No.

It’s that once an individual joins Blackwatch, or a group becomes an informant network -

They never _leave_ Blackwatch.

New recruits and people of interest never trust Jack in the beginning - he looks too...bright for this line of work.  Too bold.  To vibrant.

A sunset trying to masquerade as the twilight.

But the thing about intelligence gathering, reconnaissance, covert and clandestine operations?

They’re not about _missions_.

They’re about the _people._

Agents, informants, social and political networks.  Gangs, groups, associations, and organizations who just need a hand to the next step up.  The neighborhood gossip who knows all the interesting tidbits.  The grandmothers who sit and watch and chatter.  The children who observe things “honestly.”  The factory workers who talk more easily when you smile and share a drink.  The politicians who just want someone _else_ to listen and solve their problems.  

Jack “blends in” about as much as a blue moon does during the daylight -

But Jack’s greatest and most useful skill is in understanding

And organizing

And helping

And encouraging

People

And their parallel, immaterial, priceless resources:

Information and intelligence

And hope and heart.

(In another world, in a different life, someone would write about him that:)

(“He brought out the best in the people around him and helped mold Overwatch's diverse (and sometimes conflicting) agents into a cohesive fighting force,” someone would write about him, only in another world -)

(In a different life.)

(But one thing is for certain.)

(In all worlds, in all lives -)

(Jack Morrison believes in - and knows the value of -)

(People.)

Jack blends into shadows the way the bright, bold, vibrant colors of a sunset twilight into the night -

And that’s all he needs.

After all

The best way to hide is in plain sight.

“Alright,” Jack says to her with a low but patient strictness as he rises from his seat.  He adjusts the folds of his dark Blackwatch jacket, letting it resettle correctly on his broad shoulders, explaining to her, “I’ve managed to swing it so your ‘debriefing’ and extraction is in three days.”

Olivia looks up at him with open surprise, before a wide, infectious grin graces her bright, bold features, and she laughs, “Wait, really??”

Jack smirks down at her, chuckling at her honest expression, teasing her lightly, “No more quotes for the press, okay?  Or your next mission you’ll leave with _my_ extraction - and trust me, you don’t want to experience that flight.”

“Understood, commander,” Olivia says back happily, and Jack holds out a fist, saying genuinely, “Enjoy your time off, Sombra.”

“Thank you, sir,” Olivia replies, lifting her beer bottle and knocking her knuckles against his.  Jack turns on his heel and strides easily through the rambunctious crowds, ducking through one of the archways of the castillo fortress to cross into the main plaza.  The statue of Portero there - previously on such a proud display in all its bronzed glory - is covered in streamers and spray paint, as people continue to shout and sing joyously all around it.  Jack smirks, thinking wryly, _The new look suits you, Portero,_ before he exits in the north end of the plaza, turning to work his way into a narrow alley.  Jack weaves his way through the maze-like streets, moving up and down them with slow, confident ease, even as the sunlight begins to fade to behind the western hills -

And the shadows of twilight slip in with a slow, confident ease.

After several minutes of winding through the southern _zona_ on the outskirts of Dorado, Jack finally reaches an apartment complex - the outside painted a clear, sea blue - and he climbs the stairs to the top floor, four stories high.  He digs into his right pocket, pulling out the keys and unlocking the door to his safehouse.  As he steps into the entryway, Jack goes to slip off his shoes -

When he spots a familiar pair of dark boots sitting next to his own.

Jack blinks once in surprise, before a deep, genuine smile flitters across his face.

He slides to the walk-in closet, tugging his jacket off and hanging it up, eyes drifting dreamily over the dark hoodie that also hangs there, gently brushing fingers over it, savoring the soft warmth that still lingers there.  With that crooked smile still gracing his features, Jack wanders past the small tv and sitting room, empty save for a single, half-finished mug of coffee sitting cold and alone on the low table in the center.  He drifts into the eastern-facing bedroom with a slow, confident stride, before he pauses to admire the sight in front of him.

The room has a single, massive bed in it, fitted with simple sheets and clean blankets, that look out towards floor-to-ceiling glass doors and windows, open to endless expanse of the rising sea and the sinking sky beyond.  The world is _drenched_ in a swell of colors that bleed upwards into each other, as the horizon fades into bruised purples and silken blues, the edge of the water melting into it.

And there

Standing on the small balcony overlooking the city of golden lights and the bay of the rising twilight

Picturesque as a statue

Dressed in casual, relaxed clothes to shroud his fame

Is the man Jack would give anything

(Do everything)

For.

The light paints his already rich skin in an even deeper shade of gilded radiance, his smokey, obsidian gaze distant with the easy, confidence shadows of the growing twilight, and even from this awkward angle, Jack thinks he can see stars enveloped in their depths.  He wears his t-shirt and jeans with a casual, effortless style, and although Jack loves him in anything (and nothing, really), the Blackwatch commander is very mildly disappointed that his commanding officer has shed all traces of the royal blue Overwatch uniform.

 _It’s such a good color on him_ , Jack sighs to himself, before he smirks, adding lowly, _And taking it all off is like unwrapping a nice gift._

Or rather

Unwrapping the best gift.

The only gift Jack has ever wanted, and will ever want.

As Jack silently crosses the bedroom to reach the door to the terrace, he notices how Gabriel’s face is drawn into that seemingly permanent scowl - not in anger, just deep in concentration and thought, his mind probably focused on _yet another_ ridiculous problem the Security Council has tried to put on Overwatch.  There’s a glass of coppery amber liquid in Gabriel’s hands, and he lifts it absently to his lips, taking a long, almost bitter drink before -

Jack slides the glass door open, and Gabriel finally clues into his presence, his expression flickering into mild surprise.

And then

A smile - regal and royal, wry and sly, soft and just softly bittersweet - graces Gabriel’s face, only enhancing all the features Jack loves and adores, as _him_ -

His Strike-Commander

His partner

His husband

Murmurs to Jack with a warm, honey-toned, sunset-rich voice filled with faint relief, “ _Bienvenido, soldado_.”

“ _Estoy de regreso_ , _Comandante Reyes_ ,” Jack replies quietly, his low voice deep like a sea drenched in twilight shadows, drawing out the starswept night from the waters as it follows the sunset into the hills.  Jack steps forward, easily and confidently crossing the tiled floor of the small terrace and -

With slow, easy confidence -

He draws himself right up against Gabriel’s strong, steady form, wrapping his arms around Gabriel’s waist as Gabriel’s free hand goes to his shoulders, and Jack -

He presses his smug, knowing smirk against Gabriel’s sunset smile.

The kiss is warm, dreamlike in the dusk of the day, tastes faintly like Gabriel’s rich whiskey and Jack’s victorious tequila, accented with longing and frustrated bittersweetness, self-satisfied shadows and

Slow

Easy

Confidence.

As Gabriel sighs contentedly against Jack’s kiss, Jack feels his opening, playfully nipping at Gabriel’s lower lip as he tugs at the belt around Gabriel’s waist, taking a small, half-step backwards to the door still partially open to the bedroom.  Gabriel groans low against Jack’s lips, and Jack’s smirk only deepens and he dips his fingers beneath the hem of Gabriel’s pants, lightly tracing the curves of Gabriel hipbones and -

“Jack, wait -” Gabriel starts to murmur against his mouth, but Jack just kisses him harder, fiercer -

 _Craving_ all the light and dark enwrapped in _him_ -

Growling back with a slow burning, deep impatience, “No.”

Despite saying to wait, Gabriel does not stop, instead following Jack’s every half-step backwards with a forward half-step of his own, his own free hand drifting down to Jack’s lower back.  They semi-waltz, semi-stumble into the bedroom, before Gabriel pulls back just a bit to scowl-smirk at him, muttering, “God _damn_ , Jack, it’s been a long day - let me finish my drink first -”

But Jack definitely _does not_ do that

Instead lifting his right hand to pry the glass of whiskey out of Gabriel’s left hand with smug self-assurance, flashing Gabriel a bright, bold, vibrant smile - cocksure and full of mischief - before he downs the rest of Gabriel’s whiskey.

Gabriel stares at him with a deeply awed, if slightly unimpressed expression - his face a mixture of amusement and _perfect desire_ \- before Jack draws the glass away from his mouth

And pulls Gabriel in for a fierce, hot, whiskey-smoked kiss.

Gabriel does not hesitate now, diving deeper into the kiss, his tongue slipping between Jack’s lips to savor the alcohol and smugness of him, his teeth nipping at Jack’s lower lip, his hands moving to squeeze at Jack’s ass, pushing Jack back to bed.  Jack moans openly against Gabriel’s meltingly hot kisses, letting himself be shoved back on the bed and -

As the twilight pulls the night into the horizon -

Jack pulls Gabriel down into his space.

(There are only two places Gabriel truly belongs:)

(His gilded, sunlight radiance burning bright at the head of armies upon armies uniformed in royal, rich blues, watching over and overwatching, destroyer of the apocalypse and commander of the peace that followed -)

(And his smoky, star-enveloped nights fucking and filling Jack with his strong, steady, commanding perfection, as Jack moans his name and sings his praises to the shadows -)

(- And to the dawn that the twilight pulls out of the sea.)

\---------

 

“...You’re mad at me,” Jack says, his voice hoarse from shouting Gabriel’s name over and over again.  It’s been a few hours at least, with Gabriel fucking him long and hard and exhausted, neither of them wanting to stop, even to rest - missions where Jack is away for weeks on end always leaves both of them feeling the distance.  At the sound of Jack’s dry question, Gabriel tenses, and the motion makes both of them groan low over the way it overstimulates both of their bodies - Jack’s fingers dig a little harder in the swell of Gabriel’s shoulders as Gabriel slowly, achingly rocks his hips a little deeper, his cock still stiff enough to send small, pulsing shudders through both of them.  Jack gasps, clenching around that thick hardness as Gabriel grumbles, “I’m...not... _mad_ at you -”

“Frustrated?” Jack guesses dryly, shifting his legs a little to tighten their hold on Gabriel’s thighs, locking his partner in place.  Gabriel, however, does not fight this, instead sinking himself deeper into Jack’s wet, tight throb, bowing his head over Jack’s left shoulder as he murmurs, “That’s...one word for it.”

As Jack settles into the (likely short) wait for Gabriel to recover from the (likely short) refractory period, he sighs with blunt evenness, “What did I do wrong this time, _sir_?”

“Dammit, Jack,” Gabriel growls, lifting his head to press a terse kiss to Jack’s right cheek, mumbling, “You _know_ what I’m going to say -”

“It was an open and shut case, Gabe,” Jack states nonchalantly, “Portero has openly displayed his wanton disregard for both national and international politics for at least five or six years now - it was just a matter of getting the right information to pass off to Overwatch -”

“You mean a matter of _stealing_ the right information to put in _my_ hands to sell to the Security Council and Mexican police,” Gabriel mutters tartly, propping his right elbow up to rest his head on his fist.  He scowls at Jack in the half-light and Jack gives him a look of feigned surprise, retorting, “Really?  You of all people are frustrated over Blackwatch hacking LumériCo?”

“Of course not,” Gabriel sighs, but the scowl doesn’t leave his face as he adds, “You think I give a shit about that?  Of course not, Jack.  But people in the Security Council and abroad are noticing that we’re getting our hands on stuff that isn’t exactly related to peacekeeping.”

“And you just remind them that peacekeeping can be both enforcement and preemptive actions,” Jack says back.  Gabriel gives him a deadpan look, asking blandly, “Do you think _that’s_ really the issue here, Jack?  Or _that’s_ what I’m frustrated with you over?”

“Portero was necessary to take down,” Jack states, his own frustration growing stronger, because they’ve _talked_ about this - that’s why they had even bothered to run this mission -

“And you think Portero is alone, huh?” Gabriel mutters, his scowl deepening, “I told you, cases like this need to be airtight or we’ll be creating our own enemies -”

“Gabe, there are _plenty_ of people out there who want Overwatch to fall,” Jack retorts, rolling his eyes before he smirks -

And rolls his hips

Getting Gabriel to wince and groan hoarsely with pleasure as Jack teases him, “And I’ve got tabs on all of them, so don’t let that fear stop you from a second round -”

“It _isn’t_ Overwatch I’m worried about,” Gabriel moans, nipping lightly at Jack’s jawline.  Jack scowls as the Strike-Commander murmurs against his skin, “As I’ve always told you, _soldier_ , Overwatch is just an organization, and it will fall when the mood turns on it.  I just don’t want you - _us_ \- to be caught in the destruction.  And part of that means us knowing our limits.”

And then Gabriel leans back a little, lifting his left hand to gently but firmly grip at Jack’s chin and tilt Jack’s sullen, stubborn gaze towards his own eyes full of an unrelenting command.

And the Strike-Commander of Overwatch states in the bright, bold, brilliant shades of the sunset, full of fire and dripping with radiance that threatens to burn off the twilight:

“That means _you_ knowing _your_ limits, soldier.”

Jack stares him down darkly.

(Because Jack will give anything -)

(And do everything -)

(For _him_.)

And the fingers on Jack’s chin grip a little tighter as the hips between his legs thrust in with easy, control confidence, fucking that stiff, thick cock against Jack’s pressure point -

And Jack gasps lowly -

As Gabriel asks with the voice that commands armies:

“Do you understand, soldier?”

And the Blackwatch commander relents, with his voice _dripping_ with lust and longing and fierce frustration as he groans:

“I understand, Commander Reyes.”

“Good,” Gabriel states as he releases Jack’s chin, his hands shifting to Jack’s shoulder.  There’s a flurry of movement, and suddenly, Jack is on top of him, moaning openly as Gabriel’s cock grinds up into his tight ache.  Gabriel smirks up at him, chuckling richly, “Time to work for it, Jack.”

“Oh, god,” Jack laughs lowly and, even as he starts to rise to rock himself back on Gabriel’s thick cock, he jokingly groans, “You _are_ mad at me - making me work this hard after a mission.”

“You know what they say,” Gabriel grins, “Doing a good job only gets you more work.”

\---------

10 January 2052: 2348 hours (2 months after the end of the Omnic Crisis; 1 week before Overwatch is revealed to the public) - Strike-Commander’s Office, Watchpoint: Ontario

 

Gabriel buries his head in his hands and

Exhales.

Exhaustion tugs at the corners of his eyes, and the warm, gentle press of the palms of his hands tempts him towards the sweetness of sleep, but he resists the pull and push of both, like a man struggling to fight the tide in a growing storm.

But he has a tough, almost impossible decision to make.

And he has to make it _soon_.

With a strength of will beyond his 30 years, Gabriel forces himself to lift his head and stare blankly at the organizational chart on the monitor in front of him.

 _His_ organizational chart.

They - the five members of the supranational, special operations task force run secretly by the United Nations’ Security Council, formally called something stupid like “The United Nations Anti-Omnium Unconventional Tactics Task Force,” but dubbed a much snappier, much easier name of “Overwatch” by the five of them (plus their U.N. overseer, Gabrielle Adawe) - had only been informed that the Security Council had reversed their decision on “Overwatch,” like, a week ago.

A move that had blindsided all of them -

But _especially_ Gabriel.

“What,” he had asked Gabrielle, utterly _floored_ when she had revealed the reversal to their stunned and slightly horrified silence, “What do you _mean_ , ‘The Council has overturned the disbanding of Overwatch?’”

The Security Council Under-Secretary-General - normally a friendly, if fierce U.N. ambassador from Nigeria - had looked tired, her normally lustrous dark skin looking wan and worn from the five years of fighting and the (much harder) task of managing the formation of peace.  She had sighed, murmuring wearily, “Exactly what it sounds like, Gabriel - the Security Council has overridden its own original decision to disband Overwatch at the end of the war.  In fact, plans are already being made to transition your group from a military-based, tactical task force into a fully-fledged, U.N.-backed peacekeeping organization.”

Silence had answered her.

Gabrielle had lifted her head from her files, her deep, onyx eyes searching across their faces, looking a little confused by _their_ confusion, until -

“Please, Gabrielle,” Ana had asked stiffly, “What... _exactly_ does that mean?  Are we returning to our national militaries?”

Gabriel had glanced at Jack, who had also made a slightly nervous face.

As far as either of them knew, SEP had _also_ been summarily disbanded early on in the Crisis, shortly after Gabriel and Jack had left it in furious protest, just to join Overwatch.

Neither of them had any idea if they would be allowed back to the U.S. Army.

And that had been the part where Gabrielle had looked...almost _heartbroken_ , as she had replied gently, “That...is not something the Security Council can decide for you.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Torbjörn had snapped gruffly, but by this point, they all knew the coarse edge to his voice was not strictly out of anger or frustration, but more out of fear...and hurt.  Gabrielle had made a slightly sorrowful expression, before she had sighed, explaining:

“The Security Council has no intentions of replacing any of you.  In fact, if you stay with Overwatch, all of you will likely see a massive expansion of your responsibilities and duties.  Because of the transition from a small task force dedicated to unconventional warfare into a true organization operating under a United Nations mandate, the Security Council has approved the revelation of Overwatch to the public, and will begin the process of accepting one-thousand new agents worldwide.”

Gabriel’s eyes had gone wide in _utter horror_ at that number -

“Overwatch will be the starting point to rebuilding the United Nations’ peacekeeping efforts,” Gabrielle had continued, “So this number will likely increase exponentially in the next few years.  Once a sort of basic stability has been achieved, some of these agents will be transferred to the restored Department of Peacekeeping Operations, but the Security Council predicts that Overwatch will probably be an organization for enforcing and maintaining peace, order, and basic rights for the rest of the global reconstruction period -”

“ _Stop._ ”

All five of them had turned their attention immediately to Gabriel, who had outright _glared_ over the situation, rasping out incredulously, “You _can’t_ \- there’s no _way_ \- Gabrielle, you _cannot_ be serious.”

Gabrielle had given him a weak smile, saying wryly, “I told them you would be upset with the decision.  Personally, I think it is far too much to ask of you all, but you especially, Gabriel.”

And then, after a brief pause -

The Under-Secretary-General had murmured patiently, “...No one will prevent any of you from leaving, if you wish.  If there are any individuals in the world who have earned an early retirement, it is you five.”

Gabriel hadn’t answered, but had merely glanced to Jack on his right.  Jack had smiled with a soft and softly bittersweet face, and beneath the meeting table, his SIC’s left hand had reached out and squeezed his gently.

“...I have the drafts for the new Overwatch mandate, new mission objectives, new agent totals, new budget projections, and new operating procedures ready for you,” Gabrielle had added, tapping something on her datapad, causing the holo-projected images in the center of the table to transform from the Overwatch point-in-circle logo to a long block of text.

In his new office, Gabriel flicks his gaze from the organizational chart he had drawn up (with the others’ inputs) to the “Overwatch peacekeeping mandate” and the “Overwatch operational objectives” -

And he feels a part of his soul shrivel up and die.

 _Even with one-thousand new agents by the end of the calendar year, there’s **no way** we can even **start** half of this shit_ , Gabriel thinks, reaching absently for the mug of coffee he’s been refilling all day.  The “operational objectives” cover _everything_ , ranging from things like “decommission and deactivate all remaining Bastion and OR-14 units” to “dismantle and arrest violent and dangerous non-state sociopolitical entities (e.g. armed gangs, criminal networks, warlord communities, etc.)” to “organize and distribute all manner of resources and supplies to member states and communities (e.g. food provisions, medical equipment, portable water, weather-appropriate clothing, etc.)” to “begin developing efforts to stabilize and reestablish damaged and destroyed environments necessary for global health and survivability” (which is like _vastly_ outside of Gabriel’s military and tactical knowledge, what the _hell_ ).

At best, Gabriel’s special operations training gives him the knowledge, ability, and skill set to lead a small battalion, perhaps a few hundred soldiers, and during the Crisis, his status as the Strike-Commander of the United Nations’ task force had allowed him to effectively “commandeer” any troops from any nation Overwatch had been sent to, to deal with whatever unique situations those battles or Omniums had presented.  But very few of those operations had lasted longer than a week, two weeks, maybe three at most, and almost every nation had permitted Overwatch’s “secret” flexibility because they were the key to infiltrating and destroying Omniums the world over.

But lead, organize, and command a large, _permanent_ battalion by the end of the year?

And then multiply that by several times in the next few years?

To deal with problems that were either well beyond his knowledge or expertise -

Or deal with problems that had literally _never_ been experienced in human history before?

 _This needs to be like, given to a business manager or some sort of bureaucrat_ , Gabriel sighs, lifting his mug to his lips -

Only to belatedly realize it is completely empty.

Gabriel groans, setting the mug back down, trying to summon the willpower to stand up and make his way to the Watchpoint kitchen area, trying to convince himself that another few cups will at least get him through another few hours, but neither “argument” persuades him, and he ends up staring at the organizational chart with creeping, sinking despair.

Sure, there had been the obvious choices: bring in a bunch of engineers and computer scientists that Torb could train to decommission the “war” Omnics, and basically jumpstart some sort of Engineering and R&D division.  Ana had proposed bringing in some sort of outside group or individuals to start an Environmental Sciences division, and Jack had quickly pointed out they would need to do the same with some sort of Medical Division, as Jack was just a combat medic (and _barely_ one at that).

So yeah, while those were completely beyond what Gabriel himself could do, he and the other Strike Team members could at least start looking for qualified people to help them.

But the rest?

“Enforcing peace?”

What the _hell_ does that even mean in the ruins of a global war?

Reinhardt had been the one to say that _some form_ of the Strike Team needed to stay, even if it meant adapting concepts from other special operations military groups, and the others (including Gabriel) had immediately agreed that was outright necessary.  The armies and armed forces of the world were in shambles at the moment, but all of them agreed that within the next few years, militaries would recuperate the easiest from the Crisis.

A “standardized, standing army” on behalf of the United Nations was _not_ what would be needed in this case.

Gabriel had set aside a few hundred “future agents” to be placed into small squads modeled on the “Strike Team” (which they had all, with their collective “cleverness,” called “Strike Teams” anyways), and then had come the questions he…

He _hadn’t_ been able to ask the others.

Not out loud.

How would they be run?  What would be the basis for their courses of action?  What would qualify a “Strike Team” for a mission deployment?  

Hell, what sort of “missions” would a Strike Team even _engage_ in?  Their original team had been formed solely for the purpose of destroying Omniums, but the Omnics had _lost_ , so these Strike Teams would be deployed against _humans_ , which seemed to directly contradict the major goals and ideals of the United Nations itself.

What would or could organize hundreds of small squad groups?  If the U.S. special operations groups had the Special Operations Command, how in the _hell_ could a fledgling “organization” like Overwatch develop and maintain something of that caliber in less than a year?

And

Most importantly

And the biggest decision Gabriel had ever had to make in his incredibly young 30 years of life -

Who could _possibly_ lead a division of small, specialized, operational “strike teams”

Ostensibly until the individual _retires_?

Gabriel leans back in his chair, eyelids closing against the harsh, unbearable light in the office, dragging himself in his mind, _Go get more caffeine, you useless douchebag._

But every part of him feels incredibly heavy.

Especially his shoulders, which carry the whole weight of the world -

Soft, warm lips kiss gently, sweetly - soft and softly bittersweet - his forehead, as thick, solid arm rest on his shoulders, somehow the _perfect_ , most pleasant weight he’s ever felt, and then -

There’s a waft of faint steam by his chin -

And the _wonderful_ , life-giving scent of bitter, creamy coffee.

A low, seastorm voice murmurs lovingly against his head, warm and raspy against his skin:

“Losing sleep over this won’t make that org chart look any prettier, Gabe.”

“...That’s because I haven’t photoshopped the roses and sparkles into the background yet, Jack,” Gabriel hums coyly, as smile spreads easily and confidently on his face, wry and sly.  Jack chuckles deeply against Gabriel’s head, the faint rumble of it filling Gabriel with a quiet, sleepy joy, as his SIC mutters, “Can I suggest a two-tone pink and purple gradient to go along with those?”

“I mean, the Overwatch colors are orange and ‘United Nations’ blue, but sure, we can switch the color palette,” Gabriel laughs back lightly, lifting his hands to take the steaming mug of coffee from Jack’s hands.  Gabriel opens his eyes, letting his head drop as he pulls the mug to his lips, sighing with freer contentment.  On his right, Jack slips into view, dressed in some comfortable sweatpants and Gabriel’s snug Overwatch hoodie.  As Gabriel takes a long drink of the coffee, Jack seats himself on the edge of Gabriel’s desk, sliding himself part-way onto the right hand corner, and Gabriel admires the slow, easy confidence he carries himself with, self-assured and in control, even in the dead of night.  Jack’s gaze is fixed on the organizational chart, and a faint scowl graces his strong features - a critical look that Gabriel does _not_ miss.

“...It hasn’t changed since yesterday,” Gabriel says quietly, setting the second mug down by the first.  Jack exhales slowly, murmuring, “I know but...I agree with you.  Something is just... _off_ about it.”

“Well, there’s a lot of shit wrong with it,” Gabriel chuckles wryly, but he shrugs nonchalantly saying, “But it’s not like there’s gonna be an easy solution.  I can’t get rid of the Environmental Sciences or Medical Divisions - not with the current mission objectives, even though I think they’re a lower priority than decommissioning the Bastions or dismantling the armed gangs.”

“Well, sure, but this is just…” Jack’s words trail off into a slight growl of empathetic frustration as he shakes his head in disgruntled bitterness.  He pauses, and Gabriel watches him under the much-too-bright, much-too-bold lights of his office, watching the range of emotions that flitter across Jack’s face, before Jack looks at Gabriel, almost _heartbroken_ as he whispers sadly:

“It’s just _too much_ for us to do.”

Gabriel stares at him, just as crushed, and Jack scowls, grits his teeth, grumbles, “I - I _know_ you know that.  I _know_ we all know that.  But this is just...this is borderline cruel.  We can’t do all this, not even with one-thousand new agents before the end of the year.  Have they _looked_ at the Southwestern United States?  Japan?  Australia?  Nigeria?  Do they _know_ they’re still basically war zones?  And against _people_ too?”

Gabriel reaches out his right hand, and Jack takes it, squeezing his hand tenderly even as he turns and glares fiercely at the org chart, those deep blue eyes looking cloudy with a rage worthy of thunderstorms.

“...They want us to take down whole crime empires and drug networks and arms trades with _nothing_ ,” Jack says with such a hurt in his voice, and Gabriel feels his heart squeeze painfully at what they _both_ know is waiting for Overwatch, for the five of them, for the both of them -

For _him_ , the Strike-Commander of a new, untested, untried, inexperienced “army”:

A whole world to fight.

Gabriel turns his own attention back to the org chart, murmuring quietly, “A member of the committee that founded the United Nations once said that ‘Making peace is harder than making war.’  We’ve finished the war, so here comes the hard part.”

Jack looks at him incredulously, before rasping out, “The ‘hard part??’  Gabe, these are _suicide_ missions!”

Gabriel grimaces, muttering lowly, “You think I don’t know that, Jack -”

“Deadlock has, what, seven-thousand members in New Mexico and Arizona alone??” Jack stammers, “And that doesn’t even begin to cover their affiliates in Texas and California!  And _no one_ has actual numbers on the new yakuza empires in Japan, but MSS intel suggests that the Shimada-gumi alone has something close to twenty- _thousand_ members -”

“I _know_ that!”

Jack shuts up as Gabriel snaps with a quiet, bitter fury that is much-too-bold, much-too-bright, “I _know_ that, Jack!  You think I’ve missed the fact that the Security Council has just effectively sentenced us to waging an even bigger, even _longer_ war than the one we just finished??  Against human beings as well??  People we are _meant_ to protect and care for??”

Gabriel tears his gaze away from Jack’s pained eyes, glancing at the hateful org chart instead as he mutters hoarsely, “We survived the apocalypse only to die to what, a bunch of mobsters and bike gangs wielding pulse rifles and fusion cannons?  This is the way the world ends - not with a bang, but with men in leather vests riding Harleys gunning us down in boring box canyons.”

Gabriel looks back at Jack, struggling to hold back the cracks in his voice as he whispers, “Do you think I want that for us?  For _anyone_?”  But he gestures to the org chart with his free left hand, adding softly, “But _what the **hell** _ am I going to do?  I can’t save this disaster in the making.  I can’t even think clearly when I look at this thing.”

And then -

Much to Gabriel’s surprise -

Jack gives him a strange, almost unreadable expression: a long, blank, borderline vacant look, as the deep blue eyes - normally overflowing with thought and emotion - seem to _empty_.

Gabriel recoils slightly, starting to gawk, “Jack, what the -”

When Jack suddenly leans forward over him, sliding his chair back a bit -

Before he straddles Gabriel’s lap.

Gabriel blinks once, twice, as Jack shifts his legs, settling his hips on Gabriel’s thighs, and, _fuck_ , it takes all of Gabriel’s exhausted willpower not to pull Jack deeper into his lap and fall into his partner.

When two rough, gun-calloused hands gently but firmly grip at the sides of his face -

Before they tilt his head up towards Jack’s -

And Gabriel stares into the endless, abyssal depths of those deep blue eyes, like the sea has swallowed the night and all the stars.

“Don’t look at the chart anymore,” Jack’s low rumble of a voice washes over him, “Just look at me.”

“...You make a better door than a window so that’s not hard,” Gabriel wisecracks wryly, but his words are dry and weak even to him.  Jack gives him a deadly, gorgeous smirk before he laughs - a deep, gravelly sound that sends small snaps of lightning through Gabriel’s groin and across his lower back.

“Don’t think of Overwatch,” Jack murmurs to him, leaning closer to press a soft, dreamy kiss to Gabriel’s lips, “Don’t think of anything.”  Those hands drop hold Gabriel’s face gently, so gently, pulling him in closer for another slow, easy, confident kiss -

“Don’t think of anyone,” Jack lilts against Gabriel’s mouth, kissing each word to Gabriel’s quiet, breathless exhales.  Jack slides a little more comfortably into Gabriel’s lap, fitting them together in a perfect precision -

“Just talk to me,” Jack urges him, his deep voice lulling the thoughts out of Gabriel’s overwhelmed mind, his kisses reviving Gabriel’s soul better than coffee -

“You have to destroy and dismantle several criminal networks,” Jack hums with a low chuckle that makes Gabriel’s mind -

And his tension -

Melt away -

“And you have all the power you could ever want, but only two-hundred agents to do it,” Jack encourages him, leaning himself comfortably against Gabriel’s chest, pressing a smile to his lips, his voice full of that

Slow

Easy

_Deadly_

Confidence:

“...How do you _want_ to achieve that?”

Gabriel kisses back hard, fierce - bold and bright and brilliant - pulling at Jack’s shoulders, forcing him even closer.  Jack breathes openly against his lips, murmuring “ _Gabe_ ” with such blinding affection, his fingers rubbing across Gabriel’s cheekbones.  Gabriel breaks their kiss to sigh, breathing out, “I’m so _tired_ of thinking of this, Jack -”

“Don’t think,” Jack murmurs to him, pressing his forehead to Gabriel’s as they stare at each other.  Jack whispers darkly, like shadows pulling the night sunken beneath the sea in his eyes:

“Don’t think like a Commander, Gabe - tell me your strategy.”

A pleasant chill frissons across Gabriel’s scalp at the look in those eyes, at the intensity in that voice, their breaths intermingling, harsh and ragged under the much-too-bold, much-too-bright lights and -

Gabriel _falls_ open beneath the perfect weight of Jack’s slow, easy, confident love and trust.

“The numbers are so skewed,” Gabriel whispers to him plainly, as Jack gently runs his fingertips up Gabriel’s temples, pushing the hood away from his head.  

“There’s no way to win a battle of attrition, not with numbers like that,” Gabriel mutters, feeling neither sorrow nor pressure, neither frustration nor exhaustion.

Like this

Jack’s cool, calm presence and his dense shadows block out the much-too-bold, much-too-bright weight of the lights.

“That it,” Jack hums, urging him on, the blue depths of his eyes tracing over Gabriel’s face with such _warmth_ , saying with a soft and softly bittersweet smile, “C’mon, Gabe - talk to me -”

“...You would need other tactics,” Gabriel continues, his thoughts churning forward, like an undertow current, deeper than the surface.  He has to push past the surging waves that threaten to drown him - drown them all - has to see the way out of the hurricane -

And Jack is his shelter in the storm of the world.

Not a light in the darkness but a –

Gabriel mutters hoarsely, “Stealth.  Recon.  Scouting the situation.  Traps.  Ambushes.  Explosives.  Sabotage a supplier.  EMP their communications.  Create a diversion.  Separate their forces.  Fracture their leadership.”

“What do you _need_ for that?” Jack asks, slipping even closer, pressing quiet, easy kisses to Gabriel’s lips.  And Gabriel kisses back, dragging his hands down Jack’s back,

“A stealth team,” Gabriel states instantaneously, before he kisses back and Jack just seems to _melt_ at the feeling of him, humming low, easy sounds of soft and softly bittersweet joy at Gabriel’s love.  Gabriel shivers, enjoying how his

Soldier

Partner

Fiancée

 _Falls_ apart from his kiss -

“Intelligence and reconnaissance agents.  Covert and clandestine operators.  Infiltrators and extractors,” Gabriel continues, voice smoky and warm and vibrant against Jack’s lips, feeling like each of Jack’s soft, slow kisses pulls the radiance of Gabriel’s thoughts from the depths of the stormy sea engulfing his soul -

Like Jack is the twilight drawing the dawn from the ocean’s edge.

But then Gabriel pulls away slightly, sighing quietly, his words bitter and bittersweetly soft, “But we _can’t_ -”

“Why not.”

Jack’s words are both a statement and a question, a command and a plea.

Gabriel lifts his eyes back to Jack’s, and sees only the

Shadowy

Fury

Of

Twilight

Killing off the bold, bright, vibrant daylight and the dark, calm, starfallen nighttime.

And Gabriel feels his heart squeeze tight in his chest and his pulse thud in his veins.

“...We _can’t_ , Jack,” he mutters hoarsely, but his words feel weak, even to him, “The United Nations would never allow -”

“And are the United Nations leading Overwatch?” Jack states and asks, that oddly blank look flitting back over his gaze.  Gabriel’s throat goes dry a bit, before he cracks, “Well, they _fund_ us, Jack.  We are _required_ to follow the wishes of the Security Council -”

“No,” Jack says, dropping his fingers back to Gabriel’s cheekbones as he continues, “We are _required_ to follow Overwatch’s new mandate and mission objectives.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows furrow slightly over that and -

“We are _required_ to listen to the orders of the Overwatch Strike-Commander,” Jack adds, his voice low, like a storm sunken between the surface of the sea.  He leans in closer, pressing his lips to Gabriel’s, murmuring with slow, easy confidence:

“Give me the order, Commander Reyes.”

The words steal the breath from Gabriel’s lungs and -

“Never.”

Jack freezes

As the word escapes Gabriel’s heart.

Jack shifts back slightly, staring at Gabriel with an unimpressed, deadpan look before he states back, “What.”

“I would see Overwatch burned to the ground before I let you run covert ops missions,” Gabriel says back, utterly honestly, “I would put you in charge of the Environmental Sciences Division before you can leave me to infiltrate our greatest enemies.  Never.”

Jack scowls darkly, muttering hoarsely, “And who in the _hell_ **_else_** is going to run our covert ops, Gabe?  Ana??   _Reinhardt_ , the two-point-two meter tall man in _rocket armor_??”

Gabriel gawks at him, but before he can say anything -

Jack gives him an open, honest, almost _heartbroken_ look, saying gently, “I went through SEP, just like you did.  I fought in every Crisis battle at your side.  I am the only person who understands your tactics and strategies and ideas without you even saying a word to me.  I am the _only person_ besides you capable of leading covert operations, Gabe.”

And then his

Soldier

Partner

Sunshine

Leans in, kissing the words to Gabriel’s lips as he murmurs, soft and softly bittersweet:

“I am yours, I am yours - here or a world away, I am yours.”

Because Jack has always been his

Soldier

Partner

Soulmate

The twilight that threads between Gabriel’s radiant brilliance - the light of his sun - and Gabriel’s steady, undaunted darkness - the depths of his night - weaving them together into the single cycle of life -

Jack is the gilded shadows - bold, bright, vibrant, the dawns and dusks of color, full of slow, easy confidence, soft and softly bittersweet - that give Gabriel’s life

(And love)

Richness and depth

A fullness of light, shadows, and darkness that complete each other.

Gabriel knows - he _knows_ should say no.

He _knows_ that Jack is right, he _knows_ that - deep down - the only way Overwatch will survive its transformation, its rebirth, its second beginning without every agent dying a miserable, brutal death is to undermine and fracture their enemies before each battle begins.  He _knows_ that the only way they will be able to take on the gangs and the mafias, the arms trades and the criminal networks, the anarchy groups and the mercenary warlords

(And the corrupt politicians and the broken governments)

Is to use stealth and intelligence within them, to crack open their weaknesses with covert and clandestine operations, to slip war and infighting and problems into their ranks before they even realize what has happened.

And Gabriel knows - he _knows_ doing this will only create more enemies for them

But he can see no other way through the next few decades without it.

On the one path is the light: doing the right thing, being virtuous, defending and protecting peace with honor and dignity

It is the path where they are all dead in five years.

On another path is the darkness: engaging in all out war, cutting down their opponents with fire and fury, creating peace from the ashes.

It is the path that all conquerors have walked for centuries.

And in between

In the twilight that bridges the two

Is the only path where perhaps

_Perhaps_

Peace and stability, honor and fire, dignity and fury

Hope and heroes

Can exist and survive and live.

And Gabriel knows.

He _knows_ that he should tell Jack “no”: that Jack is their only medic, the heart and soul of their (currently tiny, currently fragile) team; that Jack sees hope where Gabriel has only seen trouble, that Jack has visions of their true potential while Gabriel sees only the ghosts of their future enemies -

That Jack should be the one who organizes and leads and guides them

While Gabriel should be the one to wage their secret wars and break their enemies open.

…

But he can’t do it.

(In another world, in another life -)

(Gabriel finds the ability to say no.)

(In another world, in another life -)

(Gabriel suggests that they switch: that Jack should use his ability to organize and lead people to stand at the head of Overwatch, while Gabriel should use his tactics and skills to hold Jack’s hand in the shadows.)

(In another world, in another life -)

(Gabriel tells Jack that _he_ should be Strike-Commander -)

But instead, Gabriel falls into him, his

Soldier

Partner

Other half -

And Gabriel whispers back against Jack’s lips:

“...You have to always come back to me.”

Jack _freezes_.

Gabriel’s eyes - like burning, molten suns hidden behind the veil of night - bore into Jack, and that soft, steady, strong voice intones:

“You won’t leave me behind.  You will never value the mission over yourself.”

(And Jack thinks, in the depths of the sea of his soul:)

( _If **you** , Gabriel Reyes, are ever the mission -_)

( _I will destroy the whole world for you._ )

When Jack doesn’t answer, Gabriel says with a softness and a softly bittersweetness, “Jack, I _need_ you to promise me - if you lead the covert ops division, you _have_ to promise me -”

Jack gets that strangely, eerily blank look again, and Gabriel growls lowly, “Jack -”

“I promise.”

Jack says the words with raw, powerful honesty, so Gabriel _knows_ he does, in fact, promise to always return to his side, to be the twilight shadows that hold him together…

But Gabriel also knows Jack hides his _truths_ in plain sight.

So Gabriel commands him:

“Say them.”

Jack stares down at him -

And then leans in, kissing each oath to Gabriel’s lips with a wry solemnness:

“I will always come back to you.  I will never leave you behind.”

But Jack ends on the second promise and Gabriel glowers, rasping back with a soft and softly bittersweet whisper, “Jack.  Say it.”

“...I will value myself more than the mission,” Jack kisses the words to him, and Gabriel deepens it on the final word.  They breathe and mingle together, their lips interlocked, trading light and shadows and darkness, threading themselves together, until Gabriel breaks away, murmuring with _such heartbroken love_ :

“You are worth more than any part of this.”

( _...But I am not worth more than you, Gabe_ , Jack thinks boldly, brightly, vibrantly.)

( _I will undermine and destroy everyone who stands in your way._ )

“...Do you understand?” Gabriel mutters, his tone bold and bright and vibrant and _deadly_.

Only silence answers him, and Gabriel starts to snap, “Jack -”

“I understand, Commander Reyes,” Jack sighs, before he kisses his

Commander

Partner

Love and Life and Light

Again.

And Jack repeats quietly:

“...I understand.”

 


End file.
